Monday, March 20, 2006
Worst Day - Worst Mother
Bella was playing her final game of her weekend soccer tournament yesterday morning. We had gotten up at the crack of dawn on Sunday morning to be in Vancouver for an 8 a.m. start to the first game, then we'd gone to McDonald's for breakfast and at 11:00 the final game started. I hadn't had anything to eat at McDonald's and was having a hard time keeping my emotions in check. I was extremely weepy yesterday morning, so I headed to the Chevron station to use the bathroom and buy myself a snack. I had hoped that the break away from Cheap Bastard, whose fault it was for everything wrong in my world yesterday (who knows or cares why today, but yesterday I was ready to rip his face off), would relieve some of the angst I was feeling and give me a few minutes to compose myself back to normal.

I got back to the field just before halftime and found Anabella in my lawn chair taking a break. I leaned over to kiss her on the head and when I stood up I guess I must have lost my balance a little, because the hot chocolate I was holding in my left hand let go and I dropped it all over her. Yes, you read that right. I dropped a hot drink all over my baby. From her neck to her stomach.

All I remember is her leaping out of the chair uttering the most horrible, primal screams I have ever heard (I will hear those screams forever). I instantly started pulling at her shirts to try and peel them away from her skin and she instinctively pulled back at them because I was revealing her bare back and chest to everyone on the field. Bella's Coach, Paul, got into the fray and started searching her for burns and blisters and all I could do...was hold her and cry, saying I was sorry over and over and over. CB came running over and when he got there I just lost it completely, sobbing and wavering, barely able to stand up on my own I was shaking so badly.

Luckily, Bella wasn't hurt at all. Her skin wasn't even red where I'd spilled the hot chocolate. I think she had screamed mainly from the initial shock of the spill and I imagine it had hurt a little bit as the drink was quite warm. Through my sobs I told CB that we should just take her home, but Bella would have none of it. She wanted to stay and finish the game. CB then asked me if I was alright, to which I replied no...then I bolted for the parking lot. I was so embarrassed and scared from almost killing my own child and I really don't remember how I got to the van. I just remember jumping in the back through the sliding door to hide behind the privacy glass where I sobbed for a good hour. Once CB got Bella settled back into the game he came out to check on me and give me kleenex. I told him I was a horrible mother, I had hurt and embarassed my child, and if I wasn't going crazy none of this would have happened. Of course he disagreed with me verbally (but what must he have been thinking of me?)...but I KNOW that my prior emotions had everything to do with this. If I hadn't been so upset before, I would never have wavered like that and spilled the drink.

I ended up missing Bella scoring the game winning goal. The coach took her out of net near the end of the game and told her to go and score a goal...and she did. Poor Coach Paul missed seeing his own daughter score a goal because it happened during the meelee that I caused. It was all so incredibly awful and embarassing and painful.

As I'm typing this today my face still hurts from all the crying I did yesterday. It stayed puffy and red for the rest of the day and I can still feel the pull of my skin around my eyes and cheeks. I deserve to feel that for a long time. It's my penance.

The only thing I can be thankful for in all of this is that I didn't go to Starbucks or somewhere like that and buy a piping hot freshly brewed coffee. Thank God is was just a cup of reheated gas station swill. Thank my lucky stars that it wasn't too hot. I think if my stupidness had caused a trip to the emergency room I would have been pushed over an edge that I could never come back from. It would have been the end of me if I had grieviously injured my own child.